(Our spider is caught) in her own web
by lifechiaroscuro
Summary: Natasha and Bucky are captured by their former masters. Needless to say, it doesn't end well.
1. Chapter 1

A/N:

1._The Glow of the Lights_, a Christmas fic that I posted in December, takes place in this universe some time after the end of this fic.

2. Inspired in part by _Defiance_, a fic from thegreytigress (on FFN and AO3). Honestly, I'm not sure I should mention it - I'm actually not completely sure I should have _read_ it, though it was definitely a good story. Let's just say that there is some very disturbing material in there and it is rated M _for a reason_. Also, I just wanted to bash my characters around a lot, so basically the following popped into my head:  
>"Let's do a Captain America fic where I screw up James - because he just hasn't had enough hardship in his life - and Natasha. By getting captured, of course. But by who? <em>Their former masters.<em> It will cause a great amount of psychological damage, after all."  
>No, seriously, that was my thought process. I'm a total sadist when it comes to my characters.<p>

3. Okay, you Captasha shippers have converted me. Not that I don't still believe in Clintasha, but it's currently the more prominent pairing in my mind.

4. Please tell me if how to improve the Russian if you speak it. I just used Google translate (albeit with extreme back-and-forth translation to try to get it as correct as possible) and American/Canadian phrasing.

5. This is just a teaser. The shortest of the other chapters I have written is almost 1150 words. The next chapters will also, most likely have shorter A/Ns.

6. I have an absurd amount of footnotes in my Google Docs version of this, so instead I'm listing at here everything you can find explanations for at the end of the chapter:  
>a. Why they're packing bags<br>b. The time range and names

**7. I will hopefully post every week, two weeks maximum. **

8. **Trigger warnings** at the bottom, since this is already long enough.

Now on to the story!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 1:<strong>

The hospital has to call him.

No matter how bad it is, if Natasha is conscious, she always calls him.

The hospital has to call him.

They tell him that sees is crying and blind to the world. Tell him that she needs help; that she is bleeding and broken. Tell him that the arm of the nurse that had attempted to sedate her is snapped in two places.

Steve hangs up and stares. Stands still until Sam comes to him and asks where they are. Stands still until he answers and Sam rushes him to the car, going as fast as he can with his injured leg. He sits in his seat, in shock.

* * *

><p>It finally hits him as they run into the hospital room and find Natasha curled in a corner, silent tears running down her face, with unseeing eyes and a feral expression. He and Sam both still then, confronted by her bleeding body and disfiguring aggression. Sam leaves. Whether he can't stand to see Natasha this way or he's decided to go find Bucky, Steve doesn't know. He never looked away to figure it out.<p>

_Oh God._

He drops his bag at his feet.

"Natasha?" He steps toward her.

She makes a broken, threatening sound.

"Natasha, it's me. They're gone. Dead, even, some of them."

Steve steps closer and crouches reaching out to touch her. In an instant, she is on him, pulling his arm forward and pushing her foot into his back, groaning in pain as she does. She gets no farther, however, as he pulls sharply on her other leg and she falls to the floor, giving a cut-off scream. He kneels over her, holding her down with a hand on her shoulder and her hip. She knows that he is stronger than she, and suddenly the fight goes out of her. She stares up at him in agony, terrified.

_She doesn't know me._

He lifts his hands from her, repeating himself. "Natasha, it's me," he tells her tenderly, sadly.

"Natasha. It's me." Holding her hand.

"Nat?" He's scared now.

_I can't reach her._

"Please, Natasha. Please."

She recognizes him now, he can see it dawning in her eyes.

"It's me, Tasha," he reiterates, brushing a hand down her face to land on her neck.

"Steve?"

She's still frightened. He is too.

"_Steve._" Her voice is ragged but relieved.

Suddenly she's clinging to him to him desperately, suddenly she's sobbing into his shoulder. He is holding Natasha Romanoff, and she is _sobbing._

Suddenly, she faints.

* * *

><p>A man jogs up to the desk, favoring his left leg.<p>

"Have you registered them yet?"

Johanna looks up from her desk, startled.

"_Have you registered them yet?_

"Who?"

"You know who I mean."

_Yes. Natasha Romanoff and James Barnes_ _-  
>The Black Widow… The Winter Soldier.<em>

"No. I haven't."

"Don't." He's tense and agitated, and she can tell that he doesn't have the time for this.

_What it could do… but _ … " I have to."

"Then register them as Does."

Johanna still hesitates, and the man leans over the desk. Her fingers move to the keyboard.

"If you value your life, and that of the patients, don't register them under their real names. You know what will happen if you do."

It hits her, unavoidable. "... HYDRA…"

"Or worse."

The man sweeps away from the desk, leaving Johanna to watch him go.

Johanna looks down and to her computer and starts typing frantically.

* * *

><p>Steve lays Natasha down on the gurney. He can see her clearly for the first time now. Her hair is wild, dirt and blood tangled in her curls. There's a large bruise on her right cheek, with a half-healed cut in the middle. Her shoulder looks strange. Both of her thumbs have been dislocated - probably in an attempt to escape. He's sure that there are other injuries, but at the moment he's distracted by the blood flowing from her abdomen and leg.<p>

He looks behind him to find a doctor leaning in the doorway, face hard. "She didn't even make it to surgery. She woke up when they were wheeling her in. They hardly even managed to push her into this room."

* * *

><p>Josh had seen her, coming in. Seen them both, one after another. The man had been unrecognizable. It was only once he saw <em>her <em>that he'd had his suspicions. And he'd been right. The Black Widow and the Winter Soldier, _in his hospital. _

_Bestial beings. Murderers._

And they were supposed to treat them.

_No._

He'd refused, and he wasn't the only one.

Josh knows the man he's watched is Steve Rogers, and he knows who Steve Rogers is. He doesn't understand how Rogers could care for them - "former friend" and "coworker" should mean nothing in the wake of the blood in which they swim.

_They're filthy animals. His naiveté is contemptible._

"Will you help her?"

_Help _her_?_

"No." Josh watches Roger's face as it tightens in disappointment and distress. "I know who she is, and I'm not having anything to do with her. I'm just here to notify the ones who are willing to do so when she regains some measure of sanity."

Josh looks at the bed. It's stained red.

"Or faints from blood loss."

_Shame he noticed I was here so soon. If he stared at her long enough there may have been complications. _

"There's not many willing to help _her,_ much less _him._ I hear they've only managed to find one so far - a nurse with an associates."

* * *

><p>Sam swings through the doorway to Bucky's room, and stops dead in horror.<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Trigger warnings:<br>**Brief dissociative behavior

Serious injury due to torture

Mention of capture, resulting in the deaths of some of the antagonists

Explanations:  
>a. They didn't know which hospital she was at, and were at home, cleaning up, packing bags, and waiting.<p>

b. This is based some time post-TWS - less than eight months afterwards. I'm assuming that Bucky's identity has gotten out somehow - as seems likely, given the mess that happened after SHIELD's collapse.

**I hope you enjoyed it. Have a good day! **

**~ Caity :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** Yeah, I know, this is a couple weeks late. Mea culpa, mea culpa. But to be honest, my life is a mess right now, so this might be the last chapter you get until late March. That aside, though... well, happy Valentines Day!

Continuity note: This is a couple of days later than the previous paragraphs.

******Trigger warnings** at the bottom**. ******

Explanations at the bottom:  
>Translations, with explanations of the names used in place of Avalien's when Cyrillic is used.<br>(For anyone who will be using Google Translate, 'его также' is actually meant to be something along the lines of 'as was his' - I couldn't get it to work on the site. Additionally, I could translate neither "Avalien" - the first name used - nor "Aliennova" - the second - so others were used in order to fit in with the Cyrillic. Once again, I don't actually speak Russian, so corrections would be appreciated.)  
>Natasha in a wheelchair<br>Avalien's use of "James"  
>About the OC<p>

* * *

><p>She stops as she enters the room. She's seen all this before, with people that she knew better, even, but it's been a while since she's seen someone looking this bad. The man has a cast on his right forearm and bandages on his face and limbs. She knows that there are more under the blankets that she can't see, but she can tell that he has a cast on his left leg and a brace on his right knee.<p>

It never gets easier.

_Especially when there's nothing I can do._

She looks back at Steve and Sam.

"I can't help him."

"You can't?" Steve is tense and disappointed.

Avalien looks down at the chart, and it doesn't help. Bones they'd had to re-break, internal injuries, tests and scans. The stark, dark writing details the symptoms of horrors. Torture, brutal and prolonged. The list is long, and she knows that there must have been other injuries that had already healed. And psychological ones, of course, the trauma that the list doesn't mention.

She can't bring herself to be as objective as those doctors.

_Not when… Well._

"By some miracle that doctors have determined that he doesn't have any serious brain damage, but you know what they did to him."

"...They tried to wipe him."

Avalien tears her eyes off of the paper, instead tracing them over the lines of Barnes' face.

"Yes, and it won't have worked quite like they meant it to, he's been out in the world far too long. But it could destroy a lot of the progress that you've made."

She doesn't have to look back to know that Steve's body has become stiffer at the confirmation, that he can't take his eyes off of the bed.

Sam isn't doing much better, she thinks - and she isn't quite doing well either.

"I can't help him with that much. James needs people he knows, and them only. The presence of someone he's hardly even spoken to before would make it worse. At best, I can give suggestions, unless he asks for someone else to talk it over with. But that seems unlikely, and if he does it will be a very long time from now."

Sam nods from where he stands, gripping the handles of Natasha's wheelchair. "We understand."

Avalien turns to Natasha, but pauses, considering. "You're going to be busy with James, though, and I think Natasha needs someone else there who knows her well - no offense, Sam."

"None taken," Sam replies. "I know how this works."

She gives a small, sad smile. "I guess that's good."

She looks over to find that Natasha has turned her head. "Do you want me to stay, Nat?"

Natasha pauses, then nods.

_She's hardly talked since she came out of surgery._

In the end, she has to be the one to lead them out of the room.

* * *

><p>Steve carries a sedated Bucky into the house and into his bedroom. He lays him down, obviously meaning to stay, but Sam stops him.<p>

"Go. You need to sleep."

Steve moves to protest. "No, I -"

"Between Natasha and Bucky you've been up almost constantly since all this began. Go."

"- Or I'll sedate _you_." Avalien adds, actually twirling a syringe over her fingers - where it came from, Sam has no idea. He abruptly remembers that she is not a typical psychologist.

Steve blinks at her, startled.

"Go," Sam repeats. "We've got this, man."

Steve leaves, and Sam and Avalien are caught in a rather awkward stare-off.

_I don't know her._

He looks at the tall, slender woman as she looks at Natasha.

She turns to face him. "I'll go watch James. You should take Natasha to her room and then get some sleep yourself."

"Why?" Sam asks, feeling somewhat defensive. "You said that you shouldn't be around him."

"He shouldn't wake up anytime soon, and if he does, I'd have the better chance of staying alive out of the two of us - in time for someone else to come, anyway." She bites her lip briefly. "And he'd be too disoriented for it to matter much."

Sam stares at her warily. "Why should I trust you?"

Her face softens. "I'm sorry. We really don't know each other, do we?"

Sam shakes his head, glancing over to where Natasha sits on the couch.

She looks at Natasha too, giving her a small smile. "I assume that you mean both in general and to survive him coming at me?"

"Yes."

She meets his gaze calmly. "I think I can answer those both with one phrase: I'm Natasha's friend, and I have been for a while."

_She wouldn't be if she wasn't trustworthy. Or more than competent._

He looks towards Natasha, who gives a small nod.

"Alright. But I'll be up in a couple of hours."

She gives him a small smile. "Maybe we can both watch - get to know each other."

Sam goes to bed. He sleeps for six hours instead of two.

* * *

><p><em>They're hitting him over and over. With a pipe.<em>

_"нет, нет, пожалуйста, не причинить ему боль."_

_""ваш побег было удивительно, я признаю; его также.. Вот почему это так сытно. Ты наконец-то дома."_

_She struggles against her bonds. Her back is raw from grinding against the brick, and it is rough against it now._

But it feels like something else...

_"Но это был я. Я сделал это!"_

She hears yelling, hears people running somewhere in the distance.

_She hears a rib snap._

_"Нет! Джеймс!"_

"Наталия!"

Natasha starts, body snapping taut as her eyes open.

She hears a crash.

Her eyes are wet.

"Наташа," a voice soothes. "Наташа, вы в безопасности, и Джеймс слишком. Вы у себя дома. Это Эвелинн. Вы собираетесь быть в порядке."

She recognises that voice. The woman leans forward to put a hand on Natasha's shoulder, and sighs as Natasha looks up into her blue eyes. "Наташа."

"отчуждатель? Ты здесь?" She puts a hand on Avalien's arm.

"Эвелин, Наташа. И да. Я остаюсь здесь на некоторое время." Avalien smiles. "Все, что вы хотите?"

Relief crashes over her as she comes back to herself. Slowly, she relaxes.

She switches to English. "Water. And my book."

There's a small shelf of books in the corner. Avalien walks to it, and Natasha watches her run her hand over the tops of the books.

"Which one?"

She gives the Russian version of the title. "Записки из подполья."

Avalien takes it off the shelf.

"A classic." She hands it to Natasha. "I'll be back with your water soon, Natasha."

Avalien leaves, and Natasha stares at the cover of the book.

When her strength comes back to her, she pulls off the covers, standing slowly.

* * *

><p>Sam catches up to Avalien in the hallway. "You speak Russian well - although I suppose it's a fairly common language to speak if you're multi-lingual."<p>

"Yes," Avalien replies. "But I grew up with it - for a while, anyway."

"You grew up in Russia?" Sam is surprised. She's never referenced anything of the sort, or even spoken of anything in that context - not that she or Natasha have spoken of their pasts much.

"No." She moves through the kitchen, finding a glass and pushing it against the tab on the fridge. Water streams into it and she watches it fill up, face blank. "I was born in England, and stayed there for eight years, then I lived in a... compound in France. We spoke Russian there."

Sam's confused.

_Why?_

It must show on his face.

"It's a long story," Avalien tells him, "but it ended with Natasha saving me. I've never really repaid her for it."

There's a pause.

"Natasha," she calls out, turning suddenly.

And Natasha_ is_ there. Sharp senses seem to be among Avalien's skills.

"You shouldn't be out of bed." Sam gets the phrase out before Avalien does.

Natasha looks weary, but determined."'I'm not staying in bed all day," she asserts. "So just let me stay here."

Avalien brings Natasha's water over to the coffee table. Her voice is dry. "I suppose it would be best."

Natasha sets down her book and turns on the television. To Sam's surprise, she then starts to watch _America's Next Top Model_, scoffing at the contestants.

In that moment, everything seems almost normal.

* * *

><p><strong><strong>Trigger warnings:<br>****Mentions of severe injuries  
>Flashback to torture scene - moderate violence<strong><strong><br>****

****Explanations:  
><strong>***I'm not sure if Natasha would be in a wheelchair just because of weakness at this time, but she has a bullet wound to thigh as well as a broken collarbone, which means that using crutches would probably be a bad idea.  
>*Many authors on FFN have the head-canon that Natasha and Bucky had known each other before, in the Red Room (or something like that). If they did, and if she had known his name, she would have called him "James". I have adopted this belief, which means that, since Avalien has talked with Natasha most, she would also call him "James".<br>*I know, I know. I inserted an OC main character. I don't even know what happened - she just popped up and demanded to be written in. Some of you might want to leave at this point, but stick with me and you'll learn about both her past and Natasha's. She won't be a flat character, I promise.

**Translations:  
><strong>Nightmare -  
>"No, no, please do not hurt him."<br>"Your escape was amazing I admit; As was his. That is why it is so satisfying. You're finally home."  
>"But It was me. I did it! "<br>"No! James!"  
>"Natalia!"<br>*This is James yelling in the waking world. Natasha has, at the very least, yelled the last part out loud, and James has reacted by yelling her name, waking at the same time as she does.  
>Aftermath -<strong><strong><strong><strong><strong><strong><strong><strong><strong><strong><strong><strong><br>************************"Natasha, you are safe, and James is too. You are at home. This is Avalien. You're going to be okay. "  
>"Aliennova? You're here?"<br>"Avalien, Natasha. And yes. I'm staying here for a while." "Anything you want?"


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: **Hi, all. I can't say that there will be another chapter soon, but you get one now. Though I'm starting to alternative schooling soon, so I'm a bit more optimistic.

But in the case that I don't post again this month, well, you'll have to wait until May (when I'll be all hopped up on post-Age of Ultron geekery). Because I'm doing Camp Nanowrimo in April, so I will probably not be posting then. Along that line, good luck to anyone else who's attempting it as well!

**At the bottom of this chapter:  
><strong>Natasha's injuries

**Trigger warning:  
><strong>Implied attempt at sexual assault

* * *

><p>Steve trudges into the room, and sees Natasha on the couch, watching some show on which young women are bitching about each other's modeling history. He almost envies her, except he knows that she isn't quite relaxed. Her eyes are on the screen, but her left hand is grasping at the bandage on her right arm.<p>

He collapses onto the couch "He's out."

"I'd hope so, with the amount of sedatives we gave him." Sam frowns. "How was he, after I left?"

"The same, pretty much, just slower. Confused about where he was, who I was, who _he_ was. He spoke a lot of Russian, too. I didn't understand much, but I think he was remembering what happened a couple weeks ago and his past at the same time."

Steve drops his head into his hands. "I don't know."

Avalien speaks up. "I might be able to help with the Russian. If you have a comm, or something like that, I could translate for you. On the other hand, you being able to understand him perfectly might confuse James even more."

"Thanks, Avalien." Steve tells her wearily. They'd come to trust her so quickly after everything. Trust her to help with Natasha. Trust her to help with anything. But Sam had told him what she said, and he was too occupied to worry about her.

_What happened to make her and Natasha so close?_

"We'll try it." Sam confirms.

Steve isn't paying much attention to the two of them currently. He just can't stop thinking. Thinking of the glimpse he and Sam had caught of Natasha and Bucky as they had been wheeled away on gurneys. Of Natasha's terror that had all but paralyzed her in the hospital. Of the way Bucky had looked when Steve had first seen him in that hospital bed, and of the way that he had looked when he had woken up all too recently.

"Steve?"

He looks up suddenly. Shows of emotion by Natasha have been rare lately, and she sounds like she's genuinely concerned.

Natasha shifts on the couch - probably trying to get comfortable. Her collarbone had been broken, and while a figure eight splint was definitely better suited to her movements than a sling, it definitely wasn't as comfortable.

He sighs, and reaches over to her. She scrambles back, but soon returns to her place. He ends up with his arm around her good shoulder and eventually, as she relaxes, his forehead against the side of her head.

There's a stretch of awkward silence, then Steve breaks it with a question that is about as far away from the current atmosphere as possible.

"So what color are you going to paint your nails next?"

As time has gone on, Natasha has revealed a number of feminine affinities. This is one of the reasons he knows that she trusts them.

Natasha's lips quirk.

"Carmine," she answers.

And that's how it starts. He moves his head back up, and the two of them talk about anything and everything other than the obvious.

A while later, he moves his arm back, announcing that he's going to make them lunch. Before he goes, he leans over to place a kiss on her cheek. Natasha lashes out, and Steve stumbles back, shocked. Natasha falls off the couch, gasping as her injuries protest.

"_Merde,"_ Avalien swears.

She approaches Natasha voice turning soft. "Come on, Nat. We should go check your bandages."

Steve stares after them.

_What just happened?_

* * *

><p>"Alright, clothes off," are Avalien's first words as they entered Natasha's room.<p>

She closes the door. "I promise not to stare."

Natasha's expression is unexpectedly wry. "Very funny."

Avalien's hands move efficiently over Natasha's body, noting the bruises, checking the cuts, taking the bandages off of some, replacing the ones over the bullet wounds.

"I'm so happy you managed to get special braces for your wrist and thumbs. I think you would have gone crazy with conventional casts. " She looks them over, the small one on her left hand and the larger one covering her right hand and wrist.

Then she stops. "You know what I'm going to ask about, don't you."

"Yes." Natasha breathes. She looks down at her lap, vulnerable. "I do, and the answer is no. But… nearly."

"I think we both wish we could say that it was the first time." Avalien replies.

She speaks quietly. "You do know that you can tell me about this, right? About anything that happened. Whether you want me to be a friend or just an objective listener is entirely up to you."

"Yes." Natasha's head is still down, red curls covering half of her face.

"I remember when they captured me…" Natasha looks up sharply at this - it's unusual for either of them to speak of such times.

Avalien's hands still, bandages held in them.

"I remember their vicious words about the woman who had practically been my wife...

"_She was helpless without you..." "We left her to bleed out in agony and left you to watch."_

… and remember them threatening my sister;"

"_... and we'll bring you pictures of her burnt body…"_

Avalien stares into nothing.

"but Cassandra was dead, and my sister was safe and miles, miles away. I can't imagine what it would have been like if someone I loved had been there."

Natasha opens her mouth, clearly about to protest.

"I didn't say that you're _in_ love with James. I've seen how you four act around each other, Natasha."

_I envy their bonds. _

She looks into Natasha's eyes. "You're a family."

Natasha gives a small smile.

* * *

><p>Steve's been so focused on their conversation that he's caught when they leave the room.<p>

Avalien's question is simple. "How much did you hear?"

His answer bursts out of him. "Who _are_ you?"

Avalien watches him carefully. "The answer to that is quite complex. Best addressed after lunch. Is it ready?"

"It should be. I left Sam to finish it." His response is distracted, his eyes are on Natasha.

Avalien looks between the two of them. "I'll go help."

Steve watches her for a moment. "What happened?" he asks hesitantly.

He sees Natasha's composure slip. "Can I -"

Natasha comes to him, slipping her arms around his back. He wraps his arms around her, dropping his head. His nose is in her hair, and it calms him, her scent.

"Just give me warning, okay?" she asks into his shoulder.

"Of course."

She pulls back and takes his hand, leading him towards the kitchen. "Now let's go eat."

He follows, and he is happy to be there, watching her walk with his hand in hers.

* * *

><p>Avalien comes into the kitchen and helps him finish lunch. She grabs plates, sets the table and pours drinks.<p>

Steve and Natasha walk into the kitchen, Natasha's hand in Steve's. They look content, and it gives Sam a moment of peace, watching them. He speaks sheepishly. "I think I may have overcooked the rice."

Natasha raises an eyebrow. She looks almost amused "You overcooked rice."

Avalien most certainly _does _look amused, eyebrow raised. "How have you survived all this time? Beans and toast?"

Steve laughs. "To be fair, it is his first time. Probably."

"Come on. Let's just eat."

"To spare you the shame of this conversation." Avalien adds walking over to the stove. "It looks edible, anyway."

For the most part, they manage to distract themselves over lunch. Avalien tells the story of a kidnapper that had ended up being surprisingly simple, and it has him laughing, Steve smiling, and even Natasha looking amused. She details his inadvertent antics and has them all distracted. The conversation continues. Sam describes what he knows about the making and mechanics of his wings and even Natasha looks impressed. Natasha shares what seems to be an inside joke with Steve, leaving both he and Avalien confused.

When they're all done and have put their dishes in the dishwasher, Avalien motions them to the couch. The mood drops.

"I think you probably deserve to learn a bit more about me."

* * *

><p>For anyone who's wondering what Natasha's most major injuries are, here's a list:<p>

Dislocation of both thumbs (Like Steve said, self-inflicted)

A broken wrist

A broken collarbone

Bullet wounds to her left leg and the right side of her abdomen.


End file.
